I Want To Stay

#6

I felt quite productive for once. I had been to all of my classes and actually paid attention! Wow, what a concept. Not that it was much interesting, but it was better than going home. Hold up, home was an overstatement. It should only be known as a house. Its sole function was to be somewhere I crashed until I graduated. The house was not a place to relax, being that it was full of rowdy kids and annoying teenagers. The only one out of all of them I could occasionally stand was the guy I shared a room with named Linden. He was eighteen like me, which helped us get along. Though the biggest factor was that Linden spent most of the time at his girlfriend's house, so I got the entire whopping 6×6 room to myself. What a legend.

In a celebratory manner in place of a strictly habitual one, I brought a cigarette cheerfully to my lips. I let both of my legs dangle on either side of the thin wall I'd been occupying for years. I also laid my head flat and peered up at the vast blue sky void of clouds. Each time I did was slightly different, but I had so many riveting memories of how the sky looked day in and day out for over the past three years since I arrived here. Like today, it could be empty of bouncy vaporous clouds and pleasantly warm. However, because it was Washington, it typically sported a thick coat of heavy grey with a distinct lack of blue and the warmth that accompanied it. The rare weather of the day allowed me to cast away my leather jacket and use it as a headrest instead. In lieu of the fact that I could fall off the thin rock at any moment, I could feel myself drifting to sleep. The harsh chemicals in the cancer stick I puffed on permeated through my lungs and into my bloodstream, soothing any lingering negativity that typically resided within. The chocolate chip muffin top I had saved from my shift yesterday rested upon my chest, waiting to be consumed.

Just as sleep was about to grace me with its presence, an unexpected sound shooed it away. It wasn't the typical sound of a bird who couldn't sing more than one short repetitive song. Nor was it the whistling of a strong gust of wind as it got caught between the electrical boxes below me. The sound was that of a distressed grunt. I rolled my eyes under their lids before sitting up and flicking away the spent cigarette. I peered towards the left first, expecting the interrupter of my happy moment to come from inside the school. But after a quick scan of the desolate second floor of school, I soon realized it lacked a single soul. This made sense because most people wouldn't willingly stay here for an hour past when they had to. I guess I'm just better than everyone? I snorted at the thought but a second before what sounded like the start of a panic attack.

I turned my attention to the section of space between the pine trees on the left, the corner of the building on the right, and just behind the parking lot. There, I found the culprit. He was pacing back and forth like an overcharged windup toy. His veiny caramel-colored hands raked across his head as if he were trying to physically extract the emotional poison that was running through his mind. He had undone his usually swept-up hair into a jumble of overcooked spaghetti. Every single visible muscle was tensed like he was preparing to use them in combat. The most noticeable ones being his enviable massive biceps contracting and relaxing with each movement. Altogether, in his own world, the new kid on the block veered ever closer to where I was posted up.

My initial instinct was to poke fun at his over-expressive meltdown. Especially because I was amazing at holding grudges and wanted to get back at him for tackling me. Just as I was about to hurl a stream of sarcasm in his direction, he stumbled over to right below my dangling legs. Dropping to his knees, he was only a couple of feet away from my worn-out high tops. Then Earth rested his head against the wall with each hand on either side of it.

I watched in curiosity as he dragged his palms down the wall. He kept muttering self-deprecating remarks about how much of a failure he was. The muscular man's chest shook as I heard the sound of stifled sobs escape his mouth. As soon as I realized, my face softened in empathy. I could feel waves of self-hatred radiating from his aura. It was easy to see how little Earth thought of himself and how minimal forgiveness he would extend to himself in whatever situation the tearful guy had just been in. I understood it too well because in him I saw myself.

I visualized a lonely person who couldn't talk to anyone because they weren't there to begin with. I could see how bottled up he felt and how this was the only way he could release it. It wasn't healthy, but there were no alternative choices. Scratching my head, I pondered what to do. A devil and an angel were bickering on my shoulder with potential answers. I wanted to shimmy to the left wall and silently escape. With him not being in the know, there was no harm, no foul. Right? On the other hand, wouldn't it be heinous to subject someone to what I had been through knowing that I could change at least his outcome? I clenched my hands in agitation at the tumultuous feelings when I felt the crinkle of the muffin top I had forgotten to eat. As if stuck by lighting, I suddenly concocted the perfect plan. I maneuvered to the corner on my left. After silently dawning my jacket and bag, I descended like a sloth but inches from where he was still sobbing. Crouching down, I could see his eyes closed while tears dropped like rain on the soil. Quickly on cigarette paper, I scrawled a note and set it and the treat by his right knee before sneaking away. He was never the wiser to my presence. After I was already blasting down the road with the wind cutting into the gap between my jeans and socks, an involuntary half-smile appeared on my face.